


Experimenting

by MermaidMayonnaise



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: An attempt at writing trope, F/F, It's self-insert but it don't affect the plot so don't let it deter you, M/M, My tribute to BMC, Self-referential to the point of incomprehensibility, the characters watch the musical
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 20:31:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15494085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MermaidMayonnaise/pseuds/MermaidMayonnaise
Summary: Silence fell in the room, and the Author’s stomach turned as she recognized where she was looking into. Something she had read and described in numerous fanfictions, fanart, and the musical itself.“Michael,” Jeremy Heere said tentatively, “Why are we in your basement? And, more importantly, why is there a girl staring at us through your television?”------------The characters find themselves trapped behind a screen, and deduce that the only way out is to watch a musical featuring an incident that they'd rather forget.Turn off the lights, and let the experimentation begin.NOT ABANDONED. TEMPORARY HIATUS. WILL MOST LIKELY BE CON'T SUMMER 2019.





	1. Why Are We Heere?

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, BMC fans! I realize that someone has already done the trope where the characters watch the musical, but I wanted to go in a completely different direction that they did.  
> Here it is!  
> I hope this helps satisfy your Be More Chill addiction, ya nerds.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I attempt to sell you guys, the readers, on the story idea, and talk about myself for only 200 words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AO3 was giving me problems, this is actually the first chapter. The next in the line of many personal problems with technology. (Get it? 'Cause the Squip? *Nudges you*)

The Author opened her computer, settling into a more comfortable position on the coach. Booting up the home screen and signing in, she opened up her writing document, mentally preparing for another hour of searching for the right words to write.

Writing is _hard_. She smiled as she remembered a line from the book _Be More Chill_ , a line that went something like, “Writing a book is easy. Anyone could do it.” She had a soft spot for the book, after finding the musical online.

She remembered it vividly, for some reason. She was listening to “Beautiful” from _Heathers the Musical_ , and an animatic for the song “A Guy That I’d Kinda Be Into” by Szin popped up on her autoplay. She frowned. It was from a musical called _Be More Chill_ , which she knew nothing about except from the annoying fanart that popped up on Pinterest. Jeremy and Michael? Something about a bathtub? And a techno squid? What?

She had clicked on the song and watched it in its entirety. When the song ended, with an Asian girl with short hair saying, “Jake!” and the horrified expression of a boy wearing an Eminem shirt doing an Office Take into the camera, she was vaguely intrigued, in the way that the overstimulation of the Always Awake Internet catalyzed a person’s reaction.

So she found an animatic for the first song, called “More Than Survive”, whatever that meant. It was by a person called Claudia Cacace. She hit play.

From that moment on- not to be dramatic- her life was never the same again.

 

And that’s why the author opened a new tab, a story about two boys falling for each other. She hoped it’s funny, because she had realized that her writing limitations were light-hearted banter and not much else.

The tab suddenly shut down, and the Author frowned. That’s weird; she was bad at technology, but usually her tabs didn’t commit seppuku on her.

An electric current ran through her, and she held back a shriek. What the hell? This was why she doesn’t watch scary techno movies, she was living one right now--

Her screen started buzzing, static flickering across the display, and she could only stare in fascination. Did it seem to be turning…? Transparent? Yes, that was it. If she didn’t know better, she would describe as a window, maybe a window to another place, but that was stupid, because technology didn’t do that. Except apparently hers did as of now, at least.

Shady figures appeared on the other side, moving around. She heard yelling; thumps and crashes accentuating the dark room.

“Ow! Why is the room dark?”

“I tripped over something!”

“That’s because it’s my foot, dumbass!”

“Rich?”

“Jake?”

“Jeremy?”

“MICHAEL? What the hell’s going on?”

“Christine? Jenna?”

“Obviously, Brooke, don’t be a dumbass-”

“Don’t speak to Brooke that way-”

“Shut UP, Chloe, I can defend myself--”

No, it can’t be, the Author thought to herself. _Let there be light!_ She turned up her screen brightness, fingers shaking with anticipation. The room gradually illuminated, revealing eight sweaty teenagers in various states of disarray around the room.

Silence fell in the room, and the Author’s stomach turned as she recognized where she was looking into. Something she had read and described in numerous fanfictions, fanart, and the musical itself.

“Michael,” Jeremy Heere said tentatively, “Why are we in your basement? And, more importantly, why is there a girl staring at us through your television?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I got into musicals in the first place because an animatic for Heather's "Beautiful" popped up on my autoplay.
> 
> Comments make my day, and kudos make the world go round.


	2. What Do We Do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They figure out what to do.

“Jeremy,” Michael told him, “I have no idea why we’re in your basement. Last time I checked, we were getting high in your backyard.”

“Nice,” muttered Rich, and Jake lightly shoved him.

“Could this be a hallucination?” Jeremy looked dazed.

Michael put a hand to his chin, considering. “Nah, I don’t think weed causes hallucinations.”

“That’s schizophrenia,” chimed in Brooke.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Speaking of which. “Um. Hi?” the Author mumbled, not knowing what to say. It was a bit of a shock to have one’s favorite characters brought to life and interacting in front of them.

“Who _are_ you?” Brooke questioned, looking at the screen.

Christine looked curious. “In my head, I’m getting the sense that you’re called “the Author”, with the ‘a’ capitalized. But that’s not your real name.”

The Author sighed. “Squip Squad, I’m about to blow your freaking minds.”

In the next twenty minutes, amid confused shouting and various curses, the Author explained several things to the characters. When she was done, a stunned silence swept through the basement.

“So,” Chloe recapped, clutching her head, “In your world, we’re not real. We’re characters in a musical called _Be More Chill_ , which rapidly became popular for some reason. Our world isn’t real in your world. We are figments of people’s imagination.”

Jenna, sitting on a blue bean bag chair, looked like she was getting a headache as well. “You forgot about the part where we are also in a book.”

“And a play!” Jake added. “Though, for some reason, no one knows it even exists.”

Christine, who was well educated with the fandom life, turned white. “Oh, my God.”

“What’s wrong, Chris?” Brooke reached out a hand to support her.

Christine looked at the screen, where the Author was watching their interactions gleefully. “ _Be More Chill_ has a fanbase, right?”

“A huge one. They’re particularly active on Tumblr.”

“That means fanart?”

The Author wasn’t sure where Christine was going with this. “...Yes.”

“And fanfiction?”

The Author looked awkward. “Yep.”

She received a shrewd glance from the short girl. “What kind of fanfiction?”

Covering her face with her hands, the Author whispered, “All kinds?”

Christine sat down, horrified. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. There is smut written about me, isn’t there?”

There was no response, but the face in the screen was still covering her face with her hands.

Eventually. “Yes, but I don’t write it. I don’t even support it, now that I learned that you’re real people. Or fake people? None of this sense.”

Jenna, who knew her stuff, made a face. Michael supported Jeremy, who was suddenly feeling very faint. The latter mumbled something.

“Huh?”

“About who?” Jeremy choked, still very quietly.

The Author felt horrible. “Do you really want to know?” She noted how Jeremy was clinging to Michael, and Michael’s heartsick but still determined expression as he held the skinny boy upright. So they weren’t dating, and more importantly, the fanfiction authors knew their shit. Thanks, authors!

“Yes,” Jeremy said, very quietly.

The Author turned to the other characters, face as red as a flaming tomato. “You really want me to tell you?”

“Spit it out, spit it out!” Jenna yelled, probably because of the rising tension in the room.

“Well,” the Author continued in a shaking voice, “none of you are straight. Don’t ask me why!” she said, seeing the weird looks on their faces.

“I’m not homophobic,” Jake started, “but why?”

“Yeah,” Christine said, “I mean, as far as I know, I’m straight, but…”

The Author shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, really. Maybe the LGBTQ+ fans want more representation in the media? But some of you, like Michael, are canon, now confirmed.” Her eyes went to the rainbow flag on Michael’s red hoodie. “And Rich, who actually came out during the musical.” Rich fist pumped. “Some are speculated.” Her gaze flickered to Jeremy.

“Why are you looking at him? Jeremy, why is she looking at you?” Jenna interrogated, her eyes narrowing. Her fingers twitched at her pocket, obviously missing her phone.

Actually, now that she noticed, none of them had their various technology stuff. The Author said so, at the same time that Jeremy started to speak.

“Sorry, you go first,” Jeremy told her.

“Thanks." She gave him a smile, because he was her favorite character and must be protected at all costs. "Can you guys check for your phones?”

Telltale rustling emanated from the screen, as jean pockets and a hoodie were turned inside out.

Chloe cursed. “Nothing.”

A frightening idea obviously occurred to Christine, because she jumped up. “Quick! Check the windows!”

Michael caught on, turning to the group. “There should be windows near the roof! But,” he gasped dramatically, and in any other situation it would have been humorous, “ _they aren’t there!_ ”

“Holy shit, Michael.” Jeremy tugged at Michael’s hoodie sleeve. “Your stairs. Leading up from the basement. They’re gone.”

“We’re trapped!” Brooke screamed. Rich and Jake joined her, yelling, “Help! Can someone hear us?!”

The Author tried not to panic. “Well, I can hear you.”

“You?” Jenna yelled, pulling at her hair. “You’re a nobody on the other side of a screen! You’re useless!”

“Ouch.”

Amid the screaming and Rich running around the basement upturning beanbags, Brooke looked disapprovingly at Jenna. “That was mean. She’s just doing her best.”

Jenna stopped, stricken. “I’m so sorry.” She took a deep breath. “I’m just, s-so freaked out…” She started tearing up, tears forming in her eyes. The basement started to calm down, the situation striking them numb.

“Hey, how’re you doing, Jenna?” the Author said quietly.

Jenna sniffled. “How do you think?” But she said it in a different tone. “Thanks for asking. No one usually asks me that.”

A chime sounded, and a notification popped up on the screen.

 _Achievement Unlocked: Connected with Character_.

The Author bolted upright, (thanks again, fanfiction) and the Squad looked at her. “That’s it! That’s the solution!”

Chloe obviously thought the Author had gone insane. “What? We’re trapped in a basement, and one by one we’re having breakdowns.”

“I’m so stupid,” the Author muttered to herself, turning back to the computer. To them, she said, “This musical is video game themed, but obviously you guys wouldn’t know that. Maybe the way to get out of here is to get enough achievements!”

Jake looked at her skeptically. “That, without a doubt, is the stupidest idea I have ever heard.”

Chris shushed him, looking at the author excitedly. “No, no, she’s got a point! And the only way we’d be able to unlock all of the achievements is-”

“ _Watching the musical_!” they said together. The Author pretended to give Christine a virtual high five, which she reciprocated. “I knew there was a reason I liked you!”

“Same here!” The Author tossed her hair, and Christine laughed.

Jeremy half-screamed, “Of course! I knew our video game obsession had to have some significance in our lives!” He hugged Michael, and Michael looked like he was about to explode from happiness. Jeremy wasn’t usually this touchy-feely, judging from Michael's face.

The Author’s own countenance fell. “Oh, no.”

Brooke looked like she was going to scream. “ _Now_ what?”

“A public recording of the musical isn’t released. The only thing that exists is a bootleg of the first half of the first act (which I haven't watched, of course), and I’m not sure I can even access it with my computer acting up. And it’s illegal, because of copyright laws.”

“Curse the government!” Chloe shook a fist at the ceiling.

"They can't hear you," Rich told her.

Suddenly, a chime sounded through the room. Everyone cheered, even Chloe, though she looked confused, because dissing the government usually didn't follow with positive reinforcement.

_Achievement Unlocked: Figured Shit Out._

An icon popped up on the screen: _bmc.mp4_

Jeremy looked like he could cry with happiness. “Well, the programmer has a fucked up sense of humor, but we figured shit out!”

A second rhythmic cheer erupted. “Click it! Click it! Click it!”

“Wait,” the Author said, “no.”

“What do you mean, ‘ _no?_ ’” Everyone sputtered.

For the first time, the Author looked incredibly guilty. “I’d just like to say, this musical reveals everything. And I mean _everything_. I just… I want you guys to be prepared to deal with everything that this musical is going to show you.”

“Does this count the time when I accidentally stepped on and killed my hamster when I was running around the house trying to catch it when I was five?” Rich asked.

“What the fuck?” Jake asked him, which seemed like the only appropriate response.

“No,” said the Author.

“Then we’re good,” Rich nodded his head in satisfaction. “It can’t include everything. It’s only, what, two and a half hours?”

“I guess.” The Author put a finger over the icon. “You guys ready?”

“Oh my God, if you don’t click that icon I will literally strangle you with my bare hands through the screen,” Chloe threatened.

All the characters sat down, Jeremy and Michael on their respective beanbag chairs.  The Author powered the lights down. She reached over and grabbed a snack, grabbing a plush pillow to balance the computer on her lap. It was almost like the theater. Except, you know, she was watching the musical with the actual characters portrayed in it.

“C-c-c-c’mon, c-c-c-c’mon, let’s go!” the Author chided the buffering screen, before clicking the icon.

“What does that mean?” asked Jeremy, before everyone shushed him.

The video started. The Author held back a laugh. “You’ll know soon enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we gooooooOOOO!!!


	3. How Do I Survive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Than Survive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm having formatting problems. Each 1k words takes me about an hour. Do the math and pity me.

Two things happened simultaneously. The first, less interesting thing was that weird techno music started playing. It sounded mysterious, and there were beep and boops interspersed. The overall effect really set the mood for the play and was fuckin' awesome to boot.

The second thing was shocking to everyone. The Author herself appeared in Michael’s basement, along with her couch, a big bowl of popcorn, and a mysterious remote that appeared next to her. Fumbling with the remote, she paused the video.

The characters started shouting. Then, noticing a big, hulking shape that was the couch behind them, they turned around and fell silent.

Chloe was the first one to break the silence. “How did _she_ get here?”

Jeremy looked thoughtful. “No, that makes sense, I guess. Well, not the _how_ , but the _why_. We’re all in this together, I guess. Also, we can’t see each other through the screen when the movie is playing, but that would be a really shitty reason to bring the Author in with us.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Jake said. “Hey, that couch looks really nifty.” The Author silently pulled the handle, and her feet rose up as the chair was pulled into a reclining position. “Can I join?”

“Sure.” Jake gingerly sat next to her, leaning his crutches on the side of the furniture, and she offered him some popcorn from the Real World (What was real? Did this mean alternate universes existed? She had so many questions). Jenna and Christine joined her on the couch, pulling the handle and reclining as well.

Christine sighed in contentment. “This is the shit.”

Everyone looked at her.

“What? I curse too.”

“Alright,” Brooke said, “since everyone seems weirdly content with the Author suddenly trapped with us, can we continue watching?”

“That was called _Jeremy’s Theme_. The next song, _More Than Survive_ , is up next.” The Author unpaused the movie, just as the theme ended. "Look, there you are, Jeremy.”

“Huh? Wait, what am I _doing_?”

“ _C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!_  
_C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!”_

_Jeremy was sitting in a chair facing a desk, a computer in front of him, wearing nothing but his boxers._

_“I'm waitin' for my porno to load.”_

 The group exploded, and Jeremy turned bright red.

Michael looked to Jeremy, then the Author. “Masturbation? Jeremy’s masturbation habits? Really?”

“Listen, I don’t make the rules. I'm trapped in here with you guys, aren't I?”

 _“My brain is gonna freakin' explode,_  
_And now, of course, it's time to hit the road,_ _  
_ Which means I'll be uncomfortable all day!”

_Jeremy closed his computer, putting a bottle of something aside and wiping his hands on a tissue._

Chloe snickered. “Nice going, Jeremy.”

A voice started singing the song “The Internet Is For Porn.” It was Jake. Christine enthusiastically joined him, until Michael told them to shut up, even if it was true.

“Hey, guys,” the Author remarked, “Did you know that the person who wrote this song also wrote ‘Hasa Diga Eebowai’ and ‘Let It Go’?”

Brooke raised her eyebrows. “And you know this how?” The Author didn't answer and made a mental note that some musicals were apparently so good that they existed in multiple universes.

_He started getting dressed, pulling on jeans and struggling with his belt._

_“But that really isn't such a change,_  
_If I'm not feelin' weird or super strange,_  
_My life would be in utter disarray,_ _  
'Cause freakin' out is my okay.”_

  _Jeremy haved a yawn and stretched dramatically, still singing._

_“Good morning, time to start the day!”_

 “Aw, Jeremy,” Christine said sympathetically. She reached over to pat his shoulder. Jeremy, for his part, had his head in his hands, his ears (and presumably his face) bright red.

The group, to Jeremy's horror, sang along with the chorus. It really was catchy.  
  
_“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!_  
_C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!”_

_The stage crew started putting aside Jeremy’s prop bed, and Jeremy stood in front of a dresser and a mirror. He pulled up his shirt, scrutinizing his non-existent abs._

_Mr. Heere walked in, wearing nothing but underwear and his bathrobe. Jeremy jumped, embarrassed, pulling down his shirt._

_“Aw, Dad, geez! Maybe some privacy?”_

_His dad shrugged him off. “Ah, we’re all men in this house. Pretend we’re in the army.”_

_Jeremy spoke, exasperated. “Just- when I get home, please be wearing pants, okay?”_

_Mr. Heere mock saluted. “Okay. Ten-hut!” He strode off the stage, and Jeremy started walking around the stage, obviously agitated._

Chloe was concerned. "Does he really never wear pants? Why?"

When Jeremy didn't answer, Michael responded for him. "Sensitive subject."

"-- Of race!" chirped Christine, making yet another reference to _Avenue Q_. "Nevermind, that was rude. Sorry, Jer."

 _“Now, should I take a bus or walk instead?_  
_I feel my stomach fillin' up with dread,_  
_When I get nervous my whole face goes red,_ _  
Dude, weigh the options calmly and be still.”_

 “Is this what having anxiety is like?” Brooke asked quietly. Jeremy and Michael nodded. “I might have it.” The Author looked thoughtful. She'll have to come back to that later.

  _“A junior on the bus is killer weak,_

_But if I walk, when I arrive I'm gonna straight up reek,_

_And my boxers will be bunchy and my pits will leak.”_

Brooke cringed. "Pits will leak? What kind of weird lyric is that?"

"Wouldn't the lyrics 'my pits will stink' make more sense?" Christine, ever the lyricist, pondered. 

The Author looked thoughtful. "Yeah. I don't know what Iconic and Tracz were on."

"I want some!"

"Rich, I swear, please shut up." Jenna dragged her hands down his face.

  _Jeremy looked frustrated and gesticulated wildly. Students came onto the stage, walking around before surrounding him._

 _“Ugh, God, I wish I had the skill,_ _  
To just be fine and cool and chill!”_

“This song is a bop,” said Jenna, nodding along.

The popular kids (The Pops) were confused. "Being popular is a skill?" Jake echoed.

"Obviously." Jeremy, Michael, and the Author said.

"I would make a comment about the Author agreeing with them, but that would be rude and also I'm kinda confused," Chloe muttered.

  _The students started bopping around him to the beat, but subdued. Jeremy sang in the spotlight._

 _“I don't wanna be a hero,_  
_Just wanna stay in the line._  
_I'll never be your Rob Deniro,_ _  
For me, Joe Pesci is fine.”_

 Rich ruined the mood by saying, “I don’t even know who those people are.”

Jeremy, who had since taken his head out of his hands and was now watching avidly, said, “Heathen.”

"I had to look them up," the Author put in. "Well, I was too lazy to look them up myself. There were links in the lyrics."

Michael swung his head in her direction, his face a mask of horror. "Seriously?" 

"Are all people this lazy in your world?" Brooke asked, and the Author frowned, considering.

"No, just me."

_“And so, I follow my own rules,_

_And I use them as my tools,_

_To stay alive,"_

"Fun fact," the Author informed an unappreciative audience, "in the books, Jeremy had a list that tallied up different embarrassing things that happened to him. I can't remember most of them, but I remember that one category was 'snickers.' Like when people laughed it him."

Jeremy, Owner of the Lists, was intrigued. "How much of a nerd _are_ you?"

"You're one to talk," said Michael, elbowing Jeremy, who elbowed him back.

"I came out here to have a good time, and honestly I'm honestly feeling so attacked right now," the Author complained, having only read the book once. No one got the reference.

_"I don't wanna be special, no, no,_

_I just wanna survive!”_

_All of the students started singing the chorus, running around Jeremy in the school hallway. Some ran into him. Jeremy, not in his element, stumbled around helplessly._

The Author wanted to make a comment how the author of "Stammer" made an AU of how Jeremy was dyspraxic, but she decided not to let the characters know how much of a fangirl (ie fiction stalker) she was.

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!_  
_C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_ _  
_ Go, go!”

_Chloe and Brooke made their way to the lockers on the side of the stage. Chloe was in the middle of telling Brooke a story while putting her school stuff in her locker. “So, Jenna Rolan said Madeline told Jake, ‘I'll only have sex with you if you beat me at pool,’ and then she lost at pool. Deliberately.”_

Michael was skeptical."Did this really happen?" 

"Unfortunately, yes." The Author couldn't tell which of the girls muttered that.

 _“That is so awesome!” said Brooke, hanging onto every word._  
_Chloe looked at her in horror. “Brooke!”_ _  
“I meant slutty!”_

That got a laugh out of the group.

 _Jenna walked up to the girls, eager to join in the conversation._ _“And then Madeline was all like-”_  
_Chloe gave her a death glare. “I'm telling the story, Jenna!” She punctuated this with a dramatic SLAM of her locker._

_The background music stopped._

 Jenna looked away. Michael coughed awkwardly, “Oh, um, wow.”

Chloe was speechless. “I, um…”

“Just forget it, Chloe.”

 _The music started up again._ _Jeremy, oblivious, walked up behind the girls to get to his locker. Chloe looked at him like he was a roach on the bottom of her expensive shoes._ _“Oh my God, he's like, totally getting off on that…”_  
  
_Jenna and Brooke, eager to please, jeered. “Eww!”_

Christine leaned over to the Author. "They kinda do whatever Chloe wants them to, huh?"

"I was just thinking the same thing."

"Poor Jeremy."

 _Jeremy walked away, hunched over. Rich, whose height and tie-dye t-shirt only became more pronounced, walked into him, and Jeremy jumped a foot into the air._  
  
_Rich screamed, “Yo, don't touch me, tall ass!” at Jeremy. Jeremy, who had done nothing wrong, attempted to backpedal, “Oh, sorry, I was just trynna get to my-”_

_“Hold still,” said Rich, grabbing him into a chokehold using Jeremy’s shirt. He went behind him, writing something on Jeremy’s backpack. Jeremy held still obediently and was spun around by Rich._

"How could you let him push you around like that?" Michael said to Jeremy. "Even _I'm_ bigger than him."

Teens mumbled affirmations around the basement. Rich said nothing.

_“You wash that off,” Rich hefted up Jeremy by his shirt again, “you’re dead!” He threw him aside, and Jeremy yelped as he attempted to catch his balance._

_Rich walked away. “Jakey D! Yo, what's the story with Madeline?”_  
_Jake high-fived Rich and pulled him in for a chest bump. “Oh man, I shouldn't say.” The music stopped. “But it's a good thing I rock at_ pool _.”_

“It’s not gay if it’s a chest bump between bros,” Rich explained when the group turned to face Jake.

“No, that’s not why I paused it,” the Author offered.

Christine wrinkled her nose at Jake. “That was kinda sexist. Also, Rich?”

Rich looked ashamed at himself, deciding to mend some bridges. “I _am_ sorry about how I treated you, Jeremy. Most of it was the Thquip.”

“Most of it?” Michael said. His shoulders tensed in anger.

Hastening to explain, Rich said, “When you have the Thquip for a while, it becometh difficult to theparate your actionth from the Thquip’th inthructionth.” He blushed as his lisp became prominent. It did that when he was threthed. Thorry, thtressed. STRESSED. There we go.

  _Jeremy started singing again. The students rushed around him before disappearing._

 _“I navigate the dangerous hall,_  
_Focus on a poster there on the wall,_  
_Avoiding any eye contact at all,_ _  
And trying hard to remain unseen.”_

 The group looked at Jeremy in sympathy. Jeremy tried hard to remain unseen and pretended not to see their furtive glances.

  _“The poster's closer now, what does it say?_

_It's a signup for the after-school play!”_

  _Jeremy looked so happy, facing the audience with a wide, innocent smile on his face. Then the music stopped._

_“...It's a signup sheet for getting called 'gay,'"_

"End homophobia!" Christine yelled, with Brooke backing her with supporting screeches.

_"And that's not what I need right now,_

_End scene!"_

"Hey, that's a theater reference!"

"We know, Jake. That's why it's funny," Chloe explained, talking as if to a small child.

"Didn't you do the play?" asked Rich, carefully avoiding any words with the letter 's'.

_I hang a left and there's--”_

 The Author momentarily paused the video. “I’m sorry, Jeremy. Christine, I’m sorry for the embarrassment.”

“Wait,” Christine said, interrupted from the start of her quiet homophobia and stereotypes rant to Jenna, “what?”

  _Jeremy, momentarily surrounded by students once again, was alone, with Christine standing clutching a book on center stage. She looked up at the audience coyly._

_“Christine…”_

_Flutes started playing runs, and Jeremy looked at Christine adoringly._

_“Christine…”_

_Christine started dancing dramatically around the stage._

The real Christine flushed red. "I hate every second of this." She buried her head in Jenna's shirt.

Jenna tensed, uncomfortable at the contact. "At least the harmonies are nice."

 _“Christine..._  
_Christine Canigula,_  
_Christine--”_  
  
_Christine turned to Jeremy. “Excuse me, I think someone wrote-” she paused, “‘boyf’ on your backpack…?”_

_Jeremy, caught staring, was off guard. “I…” He took off his backpack and saw the word ‘boyf’. “Uhhh… gah!” He sprinted away, leaving Christine staring curiously after him._

 “Well,” said Christine, “that explains a lot about our first interaction.”

  _“Well, that was smooth,_

 _Yeah, that was super pimp,_ _  
My mac daddy game couldn't be_ more limp _!”_

 “Anyone who says ‘mac daddy game’ _has_ no mac daddy game,” explained Jake helpfully.

  _The students returned, this time with chairs. They arranged them facing away from the audience and sat down, Jeremy joining them._

 _“No time to wallow, no instead,_  
_Just clear your brain and move ahead,_  
_Except that you're one of those guys,_ _  
Who'll be a virgin 'till he dies!”_

 Michael whispered to Jeremy, “Well, although it's embarrassing, you gotta admit, this is, like, your anthem.”

The Author and Christine, being the only ones who caught that, tried to muffle their giggles.

 _“I don't wanna be a baller!_  
_Just want some skills to count on._  
_If my nuts were any smaller,_ _  
They would be totally gone!”_

 Amind raucous laughter, Brooke said, “Oh, Jeremy,” in a pitying voice.

Chloe nudged her. “I can confirm.”

“No, you can’t,” Jeremy and Michael yelped simultaneously, and when the Squad held back laughs, the Author squealed, “See, this is why everyone thinks you’re dating!”

“Yaoi,” Christine coughed, and the Author tried to ignore her amid Jeremy and Michael's angry yelling.

“I am _not_! It’s just the rest of this fandom.”

“Do you ship Drarry?”

“Of course I do!” the Author cried. “Wait, _Harry Potter_ exists in your universe?”

  _“If I continue at this rate,_  
_The only thing I'll ever date,_ _  
Is my MacBook Pro hard drive!”_

_The students started headbanging as the lights turned red. Mr. Reyes, who appeared in front of the students in the teacher position despite not being a real teacher, joined in._

"Mr. Reyes? What is he _doing_ here?"

"He's so gross!" Brooke supported Chloe.

Jeremy, who had respect for authority figures, was offended. "Brooke!"

"What? He is!"

Wait. Was Jeremy's respect for authority figures offset by his experiences with the Squip? Or did his traumatic experience reinforce it? This was so confusing.

 _“I don't wanna be Clooney, no, no,_ _  
_ _I just wanna survive!”_

Jeremy jumped. "Clooney?"

"George Clooney? Batman?"

"No, Michael, you dumbass, I know who he is!"

"Dumbass?! Oh, look, there I am!"

 _The music shifted to a bangin’ reggae beat, and Michael appeared, taking off his hoodie._ _Jeremy looked like he had found an oasis in the middle of the desert. Waving enthusiastically, he shouted, “Michael!” as the latter took off his heaphones._

The real Jeremy shouted, "Michael!" along with the onscreen one. Parrallels, amiright?

 _The trumpet in the orchestra blew three staccato notes, and Michael started singing. Jeremy bopped along to the rhythm._  
  
_“Jeremy, my buddy,_  
_How's it hanging? Lunch is bangin',_ _  
Had my sushi, got my slushy and more!”_

_As the trumpet blew three more staccato notes, Michael and Jeremy did their signature handshake. Tap, tap, foot clap!_

 The Author squealed internally. She had taught this to some of her friends.

“Ugh,” Jeremy said, regaining some self-confidence, “that sushi is so nasty.”

  _“The roll was megi-maki and I'm feelin' kinda cocky,_ _  
_ _'Cos the girl at Sev' Elev' gave me a generous pour!”_

 “Does that sound like an innuendo to _anyone_ else?”

“Rich, I’m gay.”

Brooke waved her hands. “Guys, what’s megi-maki?”

“No, he said negi-saki,” Jake disagreed.

“Let’s all just agree that sushi is disgusting and move on,” Jeremy interrupted.

 _Jeremy, used to Michael’s antics, sighed. “You're listening to Bob Marley again, aren't you?”_  
  
_“OH!_  
_I'm listenin' to Marley,_  
_And the groove is sella gnarly,_ _  
And we're almost at the end of this song!”_

 _Bap. Bap. Bap. Michael did some kickin’ dance moves to the beat. He took off his headphones, and said,_  
_“Yeah, that was the end, now tell me, friend:_  
_How was class?_  
_You look like_ ass _, what's wrong?”_

_Jeremy took off his backpack and held it out to Michael. “Boyf? What does that even MEAN?”_

" _I_ know what it means." Rich had a shit-eating smile on his face.

_Michael paused, thought for a second, then shrugged off his backpack. Flipping his backpack around and walking to the other side of Jeremy, he held his up._

_Now, it was painfully obvious what it said: boyf reinds, or “Boyfriends” with Rich’s spelling mistake._

"Someone doesn't know how to spell," Chloe sing-songed.

"It's the idea that counts, right?" defended the Deficient Speller.

Michael winced. "Not really."

_“I hate this school,” Jeremy groaned, dropping the backpack._

 The Squad started positively _howling_ with laughter.

“You were asking about the most popular ship, Christine? It’s ‘boyf riends.’ With a space after the boyf.” The Author said smugly, then clapped her hands to her mouth. “I should not have said that. I should _not_ have said that.”

Jeremy and Michael’s, “ _WHAT_?!” echoed around the room as did Christine’s, who yelled, “I knew it!” along with Brooke, Rich, and Jenna.  
  
_“Oh, hey! I wrote Christine a letter telling her how I feel,” Jeremy told Michael happily, undergoing a sudden mood shift._  
_“That's progress!”_  
_“Yeah, I tore it up and flushed it,” Jeremy continued in the same tone of voice._

The Author couldn’t stop laughing, and seemed like neither could anyone else except the boyfs themselves. (Although Michael was holding back a smile.)

_“Ugh,” groaned Michael, and when Jeremy retorted, “It's still progress!”_

_Michael reassured him,_ _“It's all good!”_  

“Pay attention to the music playing in the background now, it’s Michael’s theme,” the Author told them.

_“Hey, I saw on ‘Discovery’ that humanity has stopped evolving!”_

_“That's...good?”_  
_“Evolution's the survival of the fittest, right? But now, because of technology, you don't have to be strong to survive!” Michael nudged Jeremy excitedly. “Which means there's never been a better time in history to be a loser! Ha!”_

 “This is like the ‘ha!’ from “If You Were Gay” from Avenue Q,” said the Author, but was quickly shushed by Christine saying, “We’ll talk about musicals later, shush for now--”

  _“So own it! Why try to be cool when you can be-”_

_“Signing up for the play!” Jeremy interrupted._

_Michael looked at him, confused, “I was gonna say gettin' stoned in my basement, but, uh-”_ _  
_ _“No! I mean, look who's signing up for the play!”_

 The real Christine covered her ears. Jeremy asked her, “How did you know?” while Michael gave him a tired look.

" _Christine…”_  
  
_Michael joined in. “Christine…”_

 "Not me, too!" cried the real Michael, joining Christine with the makeshift earplugs. "I'll always support you, Jeremy, but please, not like this!"

_Together, they sang as the music swelled. Christine reappeared onstage and danced around toward the sign-up sheet._

_“Christine..._  
_Christine Canigula,_  
_Christine..._  
_Christine..._  
_Christine…”_  
  
_At this point, everyone joined in. Jake and Rich lifted Christine up in a ballerina pose, and she dramatically uncapped a cap and wrote her name on the signup sheet with a big flourish._

_“Christine Canigula, Christine Canigula…”_

_They lowered Christine down, and she took a bow._

 The Squad was guffawing so hard they couldn’t breathe. Rich clutched his sides and fell off the side of the coach, where he had joined Jake. “That is _not_ what I look like!” Christine squawked.

"Oof," came from the floor.

_A bass drum thumped, then a symbol crashed. Jeremy turned to the signup sheet as Christine flounced offstage._

_“I feel my body movin' through the air..._ _  
_ _See my converse walkin' over there…”_

Jeremy looked at his shoes. "Well, I guess they got those right."

"You've had those shoes since eighth grade," Michael told him, "I'd be concerned if they  _didn't_."

_The bass and the symbol crashed again, only this time Michael pushed Jeremy toward the paper in time with the beat. Jeremy psyched himself up._

_“Take a shaky breath and I prepare..._  
_Who cares if people think I'm lame?_  
_Christine signed, I'll do the same!_ _  
I grab the pen, I write my name…”_

  _While singing this, Jeremy looked at Michael for reassurance, then shakily approached the sheet. He signed his name quickly._

_Rich got off the floor, where he was posing dramatically, and yelled,_

_“GAY!”_

“Stop being homophobic!” Everyone yelled at Rich. “You’re literally bi!” Michael shouted.

"Again, I'm sorry! I think the Squips are homophobic, and I know Jeremy agrees!" Rich cried from the floor.

 _Everyone except Christine, Jeremy, and Michael laughed at Jeremy with a “Hahahahaha!”_  
  
_As the laughter trailed off, and the students walked past Jeremy, Chloe Valentine hair flipped and delivered her iconic line,_

_“Ahh, I like gay people…”_

"Okay, you have to admit that's funny," Chloe pointed out.  
  
_Jeremy sang again, small and quiet with gentle music backing him._  
_“I'm never gonna be the cool guy,_  
_I'm more the one who's left out._  
_Of all the characters at school,_ _  
I am not the one who the story's about._

_Why can't someone just help me out?”_

 Michael, who had his own problems about Jeremy needing ‘someone to help him out,' put aside his problems and hugged the real Jeremy, who looked understandably distraught at having his insecurities shown on screen. Chloe ruined the mood by saying, “But he _is_ …”

_Jeremy looked up, and the music, enforced by drums, built up behind him._

_“And teach me how to thrive..._  
_Help me do more than survive!”_  
  
_Everyone except Jeremy came back on stage, dancing. “Nah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah…”_  
  
_“More than survive!” Jeremy interluded._  
  
_“Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah…”_  
  
_“More than survive!”_  
  
_“Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah!”_  
  
_“If this was an apocalypse,_  
_I would not need any tips,_ _  
In how to stay alive.”_

Chloe frowned. “This is geeky but I guess it works.”

“Hush, I think it’s cute,” the Author said, and Jeremy looked at her gratefully.

_At this point, the drums crashed again and everyone flailed around, ran offstage, and returned with chairs._

_“But since the Zombie army's yet to descend,_  
_And the period is going to end,_  
_I'm just tryin' my best to pass the test and…”_

_In their chairs, everyone backed him up with rad foot choreography._

Now familiar with the lyrics, everyone started enthusiastically singing the lyrics. They sounded surprisingly like their musical counterparts.

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!”_  
_  
Jeremy stood on the chair. “Survive!”_

“Why is Jeremy standing on a chair?”

“It’s for dramatic effect, Rich, shut up--”

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!”_

_“Survive!” Jeremy sang, hitting an impressive range of high notes._

“Look at him go!”

“Jake, you too?!”

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_  
_Go, go!”_  
  
_“Go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go, go..._ _  
_ Go!”

_On the last “go!” the characters jumped out the chairs, and the stage went black._

 Everyone let out a breath they hadn’t realized they’d been holding, and leaned back into their respective seated positions.

“So,” the Author said smugly, “how’d you like it?”

Everyone had different reactions.

Although most of them cheered and cried for more, they weren't everyone. Some of the more notable ones were Jeremy, who looked at her with puppy-like betrayal, Michael, who was sad and frustrated, Rich, who felt bad about his homophobic and bully-esque behavior, and Chloe, who started to realize that she was kind of a bitch, albeit an occasionally funny one who delivered hilarious one-liners.

“This is my favorite song,” continued the Author, perceptive enough to steer away from sensitive emotions but oblivious enough to keep talking. “What did you think?”

“I mean, it was a good song, and really catchy, it’s just…” Michael tried.

“It’s not as f-funny when it portrays the w-worst and or embarrassing aspects of our lives,” said Jeremy, surprisingly articulate for one who was holding back tears.

The Author’s face fell. “Well, the n-next song should ch-cheer you up,” she stuttered. Her favorite characters didn’t like her favorite song? Her heart broke. At least the other characters liked it. Some of them were singing their favorite verses quietly, Christine dancing in her seat.

A chime resounded. _Achievement Unlocked: How to Survive._

Michael pasted a resolute expression on his face. “Let’s just get this over with.”

"Cheer up, Michael, it'll be fun!" Brooke clapped. "C-c-c-c'mon!"

"Yeah, it's not like you have a Debbie downer song!" Christine chirped.

The Author, crestfallen at having remembered Michael's song, hit the play button. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as fun as she thought it would be.

Poor boyfs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It really is my favorite song.  
> (UPDATE: Since I didn't mean to post this chapter yesterday, I edited it today. You'll definitely want to go back and reread, since I stopped being sad, completely changed the mood, and added 400 words.)
> 
> Comments make my day, and kudos make the world go round.


	4. Who Loves Play Rehearsal?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Newest hit on Youtube: "ILPR" but every time Christine sings I get sidetracked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Besides me, ofc.

_The stage lights came on once again. Christine sat in a clump of chairs, now pushed to the right, or stage left, for the more theater inclined. Jeremy hid with Michael behind a wall to the left, about to go into the room._ _His anxiety got the better of him, and he hesitated. “I guess evolution’s not for everyone.”_

 

“Apparently it isn’t,” sniggered Jenna. Chloe snorted obnoxiously in response then covered her mouth, horrified.

 

_To this, Michael replied with a shit-eating, “You don’t have to do this. Of course, I’ll mock you forever if you don’t.” Jeremy visibly tried to pump himself up, and his music started up again._

 

Michael smirked at Jeremy. “I remember saying that.”

 

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_ _  
_ _Go, go!”_

 _“C-c-c'mon, c-c-c'mon,_ _  
_ _Go--”_

 

_He entered the room. He spotted Christine, and the music promptly cut off. “-- Yo.”_

 

“That was a smooth transition,” Jake observed. “Too bad it was originally about porn.”

“Yeah,” the Author sighed, “they use this line several more times during the play.”

 

_Christine sat alone amidst the chairs, fiddling with her scarf. “Yo.”_

_Jeremy sidled up to her, looking uncomfortable. “Is this where you meet for the play?”_

_“Nope. This is where you meet for the swim team.” Jeremy stiffened. “I’m joking.”_

 

Everyone inwardly cringed at Jeremy’s gawkiness and social ineptitude. It truly was painful to watch.

 

_“I’m Jeremy! I mean…” He stood there awkwardly for a second, regretting the pun as well as most of his life decisions._

 

The Squad groaned when they heard a chime. They groaned louder a second time when they read what it said.

 

_Achievement Unlocked: Awful Puns Present Heere._

 

Jenna banged her head back multiple times against the sofa. “Kill me. Kill me now.”

“Why would you even _say_ that?” Michael interrogated the perpetrator.

“ … I was nervous?”

“With a pun that bad, that’s not even a valid excuse.”

“At least I _got_ us an Achievement, okay?”

“I’d rather not have gotten it.” Rich criticized. “It’s not worth the price.” Everyone else vocally agreed, and although Jeremy wanted to be offended, the pun was so terrible that he couldn’t.

 

_“Are you okay?” Christine inquired, leaning towards him. Jeremy stuttered in response. “You seem nervous.”_

_“N-no, I always--” he realized that what he was about to say was dumb but couldn’t think of anything else, “sweat this much.”_

 

Michael examined his nails. “No comment.”

“Does he really?” Christine leaned towards him, intrigued.

“Let’s just say that if a regular person is a cup, Jer’s an ocean.”

Jeremy let out a betrayed gasp. “ _Michael!”_

 

_Christine giggled and held up a hand. “I get it. You’re a virgin!” Jeremy gave her a horrified look. “First play rehearsal!”_

 

“Is this musical just a collection of innuendos?” Brooke threw up her hands.

“...Yeah, basically.”

Jeremy slumped back into his beanbag chair. “Oh, that’s fantastic.”

 

_Jeremy finally caught on. “You think I’m nervous about play rehearsal!”_

_She furrowed her eyebrows and surveyed him. “Why else would you be shaking? A lot?”_

 

The Squad laughed at that, because Christine did have a point.

 

_Jeremy jumped and move stiffly to sit next to her. “Yeah, totally freaked.”_

_“It’s okay. I’m a little jealous actually.” Christine leaned forward conspiratorially. “You never forget your first.” Jeremy had a scared expression on his face._

 

“I hate this and I hate you,” Brooke complained, shooting a vicious glare towards the Author, who snickered in response.

 

_Christine laughed. It wasn’t clear whether she was laughing at Jeremy’s expression or her own wit. “Play rehearsal!”_

 

Christine turned to the Author. “I don’t keep making innuendos in awkward situations where they don’t belong, right?”

“Just this song, I think.”

 

_“Coming here is the highlight…” She paused, calculating._

_He attempted to supply her with words. “Of your day?”_

_“Yeah, right.” There was a significant pause. “Of my life!” A happy smile spread across her face._

 

Christine had been watching avidly, in a much better mood now that everyone wasn’t chanting her name repeatedly. “I’m going to sing, aren’t I?”

The Author clicked her tongue. “Now, that would be telling.” Christine fist pumped.

 

_Christine started singing in a sweet, passionate, and slightly pinched voice._

 

Christine frowned. “Wait, that’s my actual singing voice!”

Jake squinted at the screen. “That even looks like you!”

“What the hell? It’s like this really happened to me and Jeremy, but it didn’t! I mean, it did, but I never burst into song, though it would be hella rad if I did.”

(“Hella rad?” muttered Jenna.)

“Maybe it could be alternate versions of ourselves in an alternate universe.” Michael tapped his fingers together, his vast knowledge of sci-fi finally being put to use. “In theory, there are an infinite number of universes coexisting, with changes occurring in each one.

“Think of a tree. The trunk is the original universe. Each decision branches out, literally. Say in the original universe, I was deciding what to eat for breakfast. One branch has me choosing a breakfast bar, and another cereal.”

“And in another you had Cocoa Puffs, and in another you had nothing at all,” Rich said, catching on.

“Exactly. Those changes can be small, like how many times Jeremy tripped down the stairs this morning, sorry Jer, which doesn’t change anything. It could be huge, like if Hitler won World War II, in which case Jeremy most likely wouldn’t even be here. Heh, Heere.” Jeremy shot him a murderous look.

“Anyway, this theory would explain why we all look and sound the same, since most likely if we do exist in that universe then we most likely have the same parentage.”

“Though that doesn’t really make sense, since the events are identical in these two universes with the exception of the songs,” argued Jeremy.

“Maybe in that universe everyone randomly sings completely formed and rhyming songs?” Off Jeremy. “Yeah, nevermind, that sounds dumb.”

“My head hurts,” Rich whined.

“Wait, nerds, stop before you start debating the mechanics of quantum physics!” Chloe interrupted, breaking some stereotypes by apparently knowing what quantum physics even was. “This is a production on a stage. What if our lives are just a production in another person’s alternate universe?”

The Author clapped. “That’s just what I was thinking! Since this is a musical in my universe and all.”

“What if- hear me out, this is going to sound stupid-” Michael didn’t want to let go of the multiverse theory, “some of the infinite universes actually play out works of fiction in other worlds?”

“Like _Harry Potter_ ,” Jeremy caught on. “If the worlds, sorry, universes really are infinite, everything has to exist.”

“Does that mean magic might be real?” Christine’s eyes were as big as saucers.

Jenna shrieked. “And dragons! I fucking love dragons! _Eragon_ is real!”

“So are we in some kind of.... pocket between universes?” asked the Author, slowly coming to the conclusion that everyone in the Squip Squad was a huge nerd, and being totally on board with that.

Michael always knew his basement was destined for something more, even if that ‘more’ was having special metaphysical and/or interspatial properties. He high-fived Jeremy, who had come to the same conclusion. Nerdiness was awesome.

“That could explain why I, the Author, can coexist with you guys, even if you aren’t real people in my universe. Wait, but your actors are real people. Shit. This is so confusing.”

“Let’s go back to watching the musical, because I think everyone with the exception of Jeremy and Michael don’t understand this conversation,” suggested Jake, gesturing to the neglected video, which had creepily paused itself while the Squad was debating the structure of the universe(s).

 

_“I love play rehearsal_

_Because it's the best!_

_Because it is fun.”_

 

_Jeremy ducked his head, looking for something in his backpack. Christine leaned forward and sang directly into his face, and Jeremy twitched back up._

 

_“I love play rehearsal,_

_And I get depressed as soon as it's done._

_But not depressed as in like ‘kill yourself’ depressed._

_No, I'm not into self-harm,_

_Dude, I swear, here check my arm!”_

 

_She held out an arm to Jeremy, who, not knowing what else to do, patted it lightly._

 

Michael discretely looked at his wrists with a twisted expression. Jeremy, somber but wanting to reassure him, reached out to hold his hand. Michael accepted the contact gratefully.

 

_“See, I just use the word to emphasize a point_

_Show the passion I have got_

_I am passionate a lot.”_

 

_Every two beats, Christine reached out and very gently punched Jeremy, who was becoming more uncomfortable by the second._

 

_“I have mad, gigantic feelings,_

_Red and frantic feelings,_

_About most everything.”_

 

The rest of the group was still very much into the musical.

“How can feelings be red?” Rich wanted to know. Jake hit him lightly with one of his crutches.

“Ever heard of a description without using like or as?” Chloe mimed holding a cigarette.

“It’s a metaphor!” Everyone yelled.

 

_The music crescendoed and Christine sang faster, and her hand motions became jerkier. They quickly calmed down._

 

_“Like gun control, like spring.”_

 

Jenna turned to Christine. “What _are_ your feelings of gun control?”

“Later,” Christine promised, delighted.

 

_“Like if I'm living up to all I'm meant to be,_

_I also have a touch of ADD.”_

 

_The music stopped completely. Christine put a hand to her forehead in confusion._

 

_“Where was I?”_

_“Uh…” Jeremy helpfully supplied._

_“Oh, right!” The music resumed._

 

“This is so cute!” Chloe squealed.

“Plus,” Christine added in the same tone of voice, “it doesn’t show mental disorders in an inherently negative light!”

 

_“I love play rehearsal,_

_‘Cause you are equipped with direction and text._

_Life is easy in rehearsal,_

_You follow a script so you know what comes next.”_

 

_Christine shook said script in Jeremy’s face._

 

“Sounds like, ahem, foreshadowing,” coughed the Author into her hand so that no one heard her.

 

_Christine started singing again, but very rapidly. Her legs swung nervously in her chair, and she became intensely focused on her lap._

 

_“Anywho the point that I'm getting to_

_Is sometimes life can't_

_Work out in the way_

_It works out in the play.”_

 

_She sounded sad, forlorn, but that mood quickly passed as she jumped up and started prancing around, jumping onto another chair._

 

_“Like the only time I get to be the center of attention,_

_Is when I'm Juliet or Blanche DuBois,_

_And can I mention?”_

 

“Blanche DuBois?”

Christine turned her nose away from Jeremy, covering her ears and theatrically sang, “We don’t talk anymore. We don’t talk anymore like we used to do.”

The Author leaned forward to his beanbag. “She’s a character in the play _A Streetcar Named Desire_ ,” she whispered into his ear.

“Is it obscure?” Jeremy breathed. The Author suddenly noticed that he was still holding Michael’s hand and celebrated inwardly.

“Kinda. I had to look it up when I heard that line, don’t feel too bad.”

Jeremy smiled at her gratefully, and the Author felt her cheeks warm. She loved his character, and getting to meet and interact with the real person...

 

_Christine squatted down on said chair, assuming a confessional position beside Jeremy._

 

_“That was really one of my best roles, did you see that? I was incredibly_

_commanding, I think. It made me feel like there just aren’t strong roles for_

_women in theater these days, particularly high school theater, do you find that? Because I totally find that—”_

 

“Storytime,” interrupted the Author, pausing the video amid groans. “In the 2018 revival-”

“Huh? It’s 2025,” said Rich, mouth agape.

“--What? Oh, that’s weird, but I’m not going to think too hard about that.”

“Multiverse,” Michael helpfully supplied, thinking for her.

“Rad,” the Author said, dismissing him. “Anyway, Christine does have a point. In the revival, Jeremy gets to sing another song, something about being a loser, or a geek, or whatever, which gives him more character depth and explains why he did what he did, even if it was a complete dick decision.

“Some fans were really mad because if the writers deigned to add another song, why not refine one of the minor characters, specifically the females? Even in this musical, where girls have a substantial role, they are still less defined than the boys.”

“Huh.” Christine looked thoughtful. “Talk about irony.”

 

_Jeremy, stunned by the onslaught of words, couldn’t find his own. “Uh…” Christine continued her rampage without him._

 

_“And no matter how hard I try_

_It's impossible to narrow down the many reasons why-y-y--”_

 

_She jumped off the chair, running a lap around the stage and spinning around energetically. Jeremy seemed dizzy._

 

“Don’t fall over, Jeremy,” Brooke was obviously thinking along the same lines.

“I’m literally sitting in a chair.”

“Doesn’t matter and didn’t matter in the past,” Michael said helpfully.

“Michael.” Jeremy _finally_ let go of his hand. Michael looked happy that the contact had lasted until then, even as he discreetly wiped his hand on his sweatpants.

 

_“I love play rehearsal!_

_I happiness cry whenever it starts!_

_It's just so universal_

_Getting to try playing so many parts_

_Most humans do one thing for all of their lives.”_

 

_She shuddered, tucking her hair behind her ear._

 

_“The thought of that gives me hives!_

_I've got so many interests I wanna pursue_

_And why am I telling this to you?”_

 

_Christine paused and looked at Jeremy, tucking her hands in her pockets and kicking the floor._

 

_“Guess there's a part of me that wants to.”_

_“Really?” Jeremy asked eagerly._

 

He looked like a puppy, the Author thought. She wondered why Jeremy and Christine didn’t stay together, but it wasn't like she could ask them-- wait. Shit. She was a complete idiot.

“Hey, Stage Dorks, you guys are still together, right?”

Christine and Jeremy looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

Jeremy listed dangerously to the side of his blue beanbag chair as he guffawed. Christine leaned against Jake, wiping tears from her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” the Author said, confused. The rest of the Squad was smirking as well.

“They swore not to talk about it, but--” Michael started, but Jeremy quickly hit him, blushing. “Oh, we’re still not? Okay.”

Even Jake was holding back a laugh. The Author burned with curiosity.

“We’re still friends, though.” Christine high-fived Jeremy, who suddenly looked at the Author curiously.

“Stage Dorks?”

Damn her mouth and her reading choices.

 

_Christine nodded, laughing. “There’s also a part of me that wants to do this!” She jumped up and down, blubbering some weird noises and accentuating it with the occasional Slut Drop. “Uh! Uh! Uh!”_

_Jeremy, caught in the middle of smoothing back his hair, was frightened, especially when Christine continued singing like nothing out of the ordinary had just happened._

 

“Uh,” said Chloe, “Not to be rude, but what the fuck?”

“ADD,” Christine shrugged, not explaining it further. Everyone was puzzled but let it go.

 

_“Back to play rehearsal,_

_My brain is like 'bzz'_

_My heart is like 'wow!'_

_'Cause we're here at play rehearsal,_

_And it's starting!”_

 

_Christine looked at the audience as she sang this. It was all very meta._

 

“This is kinda meta,” said Brooke, surprising everyone with her knowledge, and the Author, who had thought the same thing.

 

_“We're starting!_

_It's starting,_

_Soon…”_

 

_Christine finally sat back down next to Jeremy, doing a smooth dance move with her legs that most likely had an actual dance name. They leaned towards each other, but she twisted away, fishing a script out her bag._

 

_“O-o-o-o-o-ooh.” The song ended sweetly._

 

Thunderous applause came from the real audience, the Squad. Christine, star of the show, stood up and took a bow.

“That was…” said Michael, “Actually really cute.” He and Christine fist-bumped.

The Author felt the need to speak. “I would say that everyone will start getting into musicals, but I feel like they already might be.”

Suddenly, the telltale chime sounded, and in addition to it was a strange _bwoop_. Everyone jumped, looking at the screen.

 

_Achievement Unlocked: Play Rehearsal Appreciation. Item Acquired._

 

A packet fluttered down from the ceiling, and the Author deftly caught it. Christine leaned over, a smile spreading across her face. “It’s a script!”

“Very astute,” the Author said dryly, pages rasping as she flipped through it, “but it’s only up until the end of ‘I Love Play Rehearsal.’ Oh, well. At least _I_ know what comes next.” She surveyed the cover closely.

It was a picture of a kid in a striped shirt. Where his face should have been was covered with thin, horizontal, multi-colored rectangles. In what was supposed to resemble an old video game (but really gave off the impression of wannabe techno font), the words “Be More Chill” were emblazoned on the different colored stripes.

“Hey, it’s the _Be More Chill_ logo!” At the point, everyone had crowded around her, jostling for a prime script-viewing position. The Author flipped open the first page. “And here are the characters.”

“Wait, no--” Jeremy hissed, but to no avail.

She read them out loud, much to everyone’s, but namely Jeremy’s chagrin.

 

“JEREMY HEERE, awkward high school junior

CHRISTINE CANIGULA, high school theatre girl, sweetly dorky

MICHAEL MELL, Jeremy’s music-obsessed best friend

JAKE DILLINGER, high school awesomeness personified

RICH, five feet five inches of teenage bully

CHLOE, the hottest girl in school, crass and confident

BROOKE, the second hottest girl in school, insecure

JENNA ROLAN, that girl who knows everyone’s business

JEREMY’S DAD, never wears pants. Also: MR. REYES, SCARY STOCKBOY

THE SQUIP, the supercomputer in Jeremy’s head.”

 

Jeremy hissed. “That fucking Squip.”

Rich looked offended. “I am more than my tagline!”

“So am I!” squealed Brooke. “ _Second_ hottest?” She jabbed a finger at Chloe. “You--”

“Hey, I don’t like mine either! What does crass even mean, because it sounds nasty!”

“I like mine,” said Jake, who really was high school awesomeness personified.

“Girls, girls,” Michael said. He turned to the author. “Could this pamphlet’s purpose be to sow discord amongst us?” Everyone narrowed their eyes at him. “What? Music increases vocabulary.”

The Author sighed. “Let’s not talk like we’re in a Medieval era novel, okay, Michael?” Michael nodded silently, but he did so with a smug expression. “And yes, I think so.”

“I agree,” Jeremy piped up. Michael looked at him gratefully. “I don’t think that someone wants us to get out of… wherever, _whatever_ this is… easily.”

Christine, who had just now read the list, squeaked in hamster-like indignation. “ _Sweetly dorky_?”

“My secondary feature is apparently insecurity,” said Brooke, expertly hiding her very real insecurity. “You got off lightly.”

“Your dad’s description is boring,” noticed Rich. “Also, why are we not talking about the fact that his actor plays two characters?”

The Author couldn’t help herself. “Yeah, there’s a whole song on that description later. Let’s move on. You’re the star in the next one, Rich.”

“I am?”

“Yeah, in the way that an actor is the star of a bad porno. Not that I watch porn, like someone Heere-- listen, it's just for the comparison.”

Rich’s gaping expression (or was it a fish impression? The Author was impressed by her rhyming skills) was becoming routine. “Wait, what?”

The Author flashed back to Rich’s hip moves and cringed inwardly. “You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pro tip: the more off topic I get, the greater the probability that the song isn't my favorite. Just kidding. We don't have favorites (except we totally do).
> 
> Comments make my day, and kudos make the world go round.


	5. What the Hell's a Squip?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Squip Song.  
> I dedicate this chapter to everyone IRL who nagged me about when I would write the next one. You know who you are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the infrequent updates, but each chapter takes me SOOO long. Like, for this story each 1k words takes me an hour and a half, and that doesn't count that time I spend editing it.  
> I demand quality over quantity. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I enjoy writing it.

  _The scene continued with Jeremy sitting next to Christine, who had just finished her song and was writing frantically in her notebook, among empty chairs at empty tables._

_“So... where’s everyone else?” asked Jeremy, trying to fill the silence._

_“We’ve been slipping in membership lately,” Christine said sadly, “I guess it’s just the two of us—”_

“I always wondered what would have happened if no one else showed up,” the Author muttered.

Christine hit her lightly. “Spoiler alert!”

Jenna stared at her. “We literally were all there. There is no spoiler alert warning in our lives.”

Except Michael in the Bathroom, the Author thought sadly. Would Michael let her hug him? She wanted to. No, she wanted Jeremy to. No, both. Both? Both. Both is good.

_Rock and roll music started playing, also known as “cool guy entrance music.” Jake, Rich, Brooke, Chloe, and Jenna flounced into the room, accompanied by the music and their inherent coolness._

Jake strummed an imaginary air guitar and Chloe flipped her hair. “We are _so_ cool.”

“You mean chill.”

“I do not.”

Jeremy winced in the background.

_“Has this theater always been here?” Chloe wondered but was cut off by Mr. Reyes wandering in from the side._

“Stop looking at me,” Chloe complained when everyone did so. “I wasn't involved in drama until then and I skipped out on all those boring school assemblies to make out under the bleachers, is that so bad?”

_“Oh, thank god, the popular students have arrived. He-llo, everyone! My name is Mr. Reyes. You may recognize me from Drama Class, or my full-time job, at the Hobby Lobby.”_

Michael sighed. “Why is the teacher’s full-time job at an arts and crafts store?”

“There are so many things this musical made me look up,” the Author whispered, wincing.

Jenna, having heard her, whispered, “The Popular Kids like to hang out there.”

“But why? And, wait, don’t you hang out with them?”

“There are two things I hate about Hobby Lobby: shoplifting and Mr. Reyes,” continued Jenna, ignoring her question. “Both of them are there.”

_The popular kids clapped, some looked at Reyes appreciatively, and Jake made finger guns at him. But, like, in a cool way._

_“Thank you,” Mr. Reyes continued. “I’ve been dreaming of the day I get to stage William Shakespeare’s classic “A Midsummer Night’s Dream”—_

_Christine leaned forward in excitement. “Yes!”_

_Mr. Reyes clasped his hands. “And today, that dream dies.”_

_“WHAT?”_

“WHAT?” yelled Christine. “They put _that_ in here?”

_“And is reborn! Just... slightly mutated.” He put on his glasses. “The school has informed me that, uh, unless I increase our popularity, our funds will be diverted. To the Frisbee Golf Team.” Jake fist-pumped from his seat._

“Jake, you shit,” said Michael.

_“Which is why our production will be set, not in a pastoral forest, but a post-apocalyptic future,” Reyes explained, trying to pitch the idea in a cool way, but failing. “Instead of frolicking with fairies, there will be fleeing. From zombies.”_

“Ugh. This is so dumb.”

“I know.” Michael fist-bumped the Author.

_Christine wasn’t buying it. She marched up to him, indignantly saying, “Don’t you care about Shakespeare?”_

_Reyes squished her cheeks between his palms. “The man is dead. Let it go.” He pulled Christine into a hug. She froze, on her tiptoes. “We will now take a five-minute break so I can eat a Hot Pocket.” Reyes let her go._

“It was creepy then, and it’s creepy now,” said Brooke.

Christine winced. “I know. I didn’t know what to do, y’know?”

_The popular kids followed him out, accompanied by exit music and Rich yelling, “Theatre is easy, yo!”_

“No, it’s actually not!” Christine yelled at Rich onscreen along with Jeremy and the Author.

Rich raised his hands in defense. “Yeah, well, I didn’t know that _then_!”

_Reyes went to Brooke in leaned in confidentially as they exited. “So what’s the story with Jake and Madeline?”_

“I know this is meant to be comedic,” Michael spat, “but teacher-student relationships and boundaries, y’know?”

Jeremy disagreed. “Reyes is just hanging with the popular kids, probably illustrating my unpopularity or something. I don’t think that conversation actually happened in real life.”

“No, it did,” Brooke helpfully supplied.

“Oh. Then ew.”

_Jake hung back and stood with Christine at the far left wall, making them the only people in the room._

_Oh, yeah, Jeremy was there too, sitting on his chair. But Jeremy made himself inconspicuous, which wasn’t that different from how he usually acted. He fiddled with his red backpack, listening to their conversation._

Michael stuck out his tongue at the real Jeremy. “That’s called creeping, Jeremy.”

Jeremy fake-pushed Michael’s tongue back in his mouth without actually touching him. “No blepping.”

“Let him blep, you bully,” the Author said, making another reference. They were awfully convenient to make. She wondered why.

_“Hey,” Jake greeted Christine, trying to remember why she was familiar and succeeding. “You were in that play last year!”_

_She backed away from him, scuttling over to her backpack. “You mean_ Romeo and Juliet _?”_

_“Yeah, you were that girl who died!”_

“You’re so smooth!” Chloe out a hand to her forehead like a damsel in distress. “Take me away!”

_“You mean Juliet?”_

Michael put his head in his hands. This was the most popular boy in the school speaking. What had the world come to?

_He clapped his hands once. “Yeah! That was depressing.”_

_“Thanks…” Christine finished shoving her various items into her bag and slung it over her shoulders._

“Why were you so eager to leave?” Jake sounded hurt.

“To be honest,” Christine hesitated, “I’m not sure. I don’t remember.”

_“But... you were good. I’m Jake.”_

_Christine froze. “I know.” Her voice was very high and soft._

Christine sighed, running her hand through her short hair. “I remember now.”

“Do I sense a crush?” Rich teased.

“That was the joke,” Jeremy told him.

_“Cool.” Jake ran his hand through his hair, stepping back uncomfortably. “Um, can I say something stupid? When I saw you die in the play last year… That was like the saddest I’d felt in a long time.”_

“Oh, no,” Michael said to Jake in a baby voice. “Would you like a tissue? A pacifier, perhaps?”

Jeremy played along. “Some game with the gals?”

When Jake defended his honor, he did so ruthlessly. “Says the person who has none.”

“Ouch,” Jeremy said, but he was laughing along with others.

_Jake’s voice became earnest, while Jeremy extricated his phone from his pocket and fixed his hair in the mirror. “It was like everything in my life, all the pressure I feel to be the best, at everything, all the time... Suddenly felt so small._

_And then, when you got up at the end for your victory dance-” Jake put his fists up in the air, attempting to mimic a bow._

_“Bow,” Christine corrected him, smiling, “it’s called a bow.”_

“How, pray tell, did you fall for this?” Jenna quietly asked Christine.

“He’s really hot. That’s pretty much the only reason.”

“Hey!” Jake protested.

The Author butted into their conversation. “Are he and Rich dating yet?”

“What?” Jenna wrinkled her nose. “My sources didn’t say anything about that.”

Mission abort. Mission abort. “Just kidding! Nevermind. Wow, I’m a riot.”

A chime sounded. _Achievement Unlocked: Do a Victory Dance!_

As everyone groaned, Jake made a sad puppy face. “I would do one, but I’m still on crutches.”

“I’ll help you!” offered Rich, finally getting up from the floor. As he helped Jake up, the Author sang the entrance to “Two Player Game.”

“Stop that,” Jeremy told her.

“Huh? Why?”

“That’s the background music for level nine of _Apocalypse of the Damned_. We,” Jeremy gestured towards him and Michael, blissfully ignorant of the fact that the Author knew everything about their formerly fictional lives, “haven’t beaten it yet.”

“Still? I mean, I’m shit at video games, but… Wow.”

“Rude,” Michael declared. “Anyway, it’s Jer’s fault. He keeps getting kilt like the noob he is- yes, don’t look at me like that, I said kilt- and it’s a two player game so it’s not like I can beat it without him!”

“It’s not me, it’s the controller!” Jeremy was indignant. “One of the buttons stick!”

“Normally I would make a comment that would consist of me just yelling ‘Nerds!’ at the top of my lungs, but I’m distracted by Rich and Jake,” Brooke commented to Chloe.

The two were stumbling around in front of Michael’s television in a pathetic attempt at dancing, Rich holding out his hands in case if Jake fell. Considering Rich’s height difference, it probably wouldn’t make a difference. The Author said so.

“You’d think, right?” Chloe said. “But Rich is crazy strong.”

“Guys, guys,” Jenna said, “don’t we want to watch the musical and get out of here?”

“I don’t know,” Rich laughed, supporting Jake, “Michael’s basement is pretty cool. I’d be fine to chill here.”

“Even if it smells like weed,” Jeremy wrinkled his nose, fishing under the beanbag chair. “What happened to our Febreeze bottle in this pocket universe?”

Michael sniffed the air and then copied Jeremy’s face. “Oops.”

As the two jocks returned to their seats, the Author unpaused the video and attempted to settle in, except for the fact that there were seven people on the couch now.

“This is too many people on the couch. I brought, teleported it, whatever- don’t make that face Chloe- so I stay.” Amid protests, she proclaimed, “Jake stays too. When any of you break both of your legs, you can sit up here.”

“That’s fair.”

“Shut up, Jake, you actually get the couch.”

The Author waved across the entirety of the basement. “Rich, you can sit somewhere else.”

Rich winked at her. “How about your lap?”

“W-what? No, ew. Ew.” The Author scrubbed her eyes. “Oh my God, fine, sit next to Jake.”

Rich fist pumped.

“Chris, Jenna, do you guys want to stay on the couch?”

They smiled at her. “Sure!”

“Um, what about us?” asked Brooke, who was currently sitting on top of Chloe due to the fact that it was the only space left on the coach.

“Wait.” The Author turned to Jeremy and Michael. “You each have a beanbag to yourself. Do you mind sharing?”

“Nope.” Jeremy flopped next to Michael. They were now sitting shoulder to shoulder, relaxing in each other’s presence. She shipped them so hard.

Wait, did Michael just put his arm around Jeremy? Oh shit, he did. And Jeremy leaned back into him and put his head on Michael’s shoulder.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Clearly, they had done this before, because neither of them was freaking out, sweating, or showing minor signs of discomfort that they were cuddling with their respective crushes.

Tearing her eyes away, because even though she loved her boyfs there was a job to be done, and returned to Brooke and Chloe. “You guys can do the same on Jeremy’s beanbag!”

Chloe leaned in towards her. “What, you mean cuddle?” she whispered. Well, it’s not like the boyfs’ actions were discreet. The Author was glad Chloe kept her voice down. “Obviously not if you don’t want to. Why? Do you… like Brooke?” The Author’s voice became nearly inaudible.

Chloe Valentine, owner of the blank face, actually blushed. “Yeah, after we got high on ecstasy at the play, I realized that the reason I was jealous of Brooke was because I liked her. I wanted to be the one she was dating, y’know?” She paused, stricken at remembering that Brooke was still on her lap- luckily, she was chatting with Rich. “Please don’t tell her.”

“Of course,” the Author reassured her. “The beanbag is yours.”

Shooting her a grateful look, Chloe said to Brooke, “Up you go. Let’s go to the beanbag and get away from the gross, smelly boys.”

“What in we in, second grade?” Brooke said, but she went and sat on the beanbag with her. The Author mentally crossed all her ships off of her checklist. The Boyfs and Pinkberry were sitting together, and Rich/Jake (she had no idea what their ship name was) were next to each other on the couch, fooling around.

Jake was sitting at the end of the coach, Rich sitting on its arm. Christine and Jenna were chatting about their respective political views on the other side as Christine had promised earlier. Michael was tickling a squealing Jeremy on the beanbag, and Chloe was braiding Brooke’s hair on the other. All was well.

Settling in between all of them on the couch, the Author sighed in contentment. “Ready to watch?” She pressed ‘play’ anyway without waiting for their response.

_“Right! I remember thinking, ‘I’m glad that girl was not dead… before I ever got the chance to know her.’” Jake took a step back in embarrassment. “Stupid, right?”_

_Christine stared at him, touched. “That’s... not stupid at all.”_

“... It’s kinda stupid,” Michael interjected. Brooke reached over to cover his mouth from the other beanbag.

“Shush, they’re having a moment!”

_“Cool!” Jake clapped his hands, recovering from his uncomfortableness. “Hey, a bunch of us are going out after practice today.” He paused, then took her tiny hand in his. “You should join. ‘Parting is such sweet’...”_

_“‘Sorrow?’”_

“Is it mean if I say that you’re an uncultured swine?” questioned Jenna.

“Kinda,” Jeremy told her. “Even if it is a little bit true. Sorry, Jake.”

“No offense taken. It does sound dumb listening to it now.”

_“Whatever,” Jake said jokingly, letting go of her hand. He sent Christine a thumbs-up, while she giggled. She was gesturing a lot, shrugging and smiling._

_“Oh!” He spotted Jeremy. “Dude, hey. Someone wrote Boyf on your backpack.”_

Rich high-fived Jake. “That was me!”

“Well, I know that _now_.”

Jeremy sighed. “I still have that written on my backpack.”

Christine raised her hand like they were in class. “Why didn’t you buy a new one?”

“Meh.” Jeremy played it off. “Too much effort.” He totally wanted to keep it. Not to be marked or any of that kinky shit; he just thought it was funny and internally wished that it was true. The Author knew things like that.

_Jake left. Jeremy stood up, looking at Christine, who was still staring after Jake, starstruck. “So, I heard this thing about how humans aren’t evolving anymore?”_

_Christine turned around, giddy. “I’m sorry, Jeremy. Did you say something?”_

“Aw,” Brooke patted Jeremy on the back, “sorry, bud.”

_“Uh,” Jeremy noted her expression, put two and two together, and brushed his hands in a dismissing motion. “Forget it.” He walked away to the center of the stage, leaving Christine behind him._

_“Once again there’s been a takedown,_

_But I guess it could have gone worse._

_At least I didn’t have a breakdown_

_Then have to go to the nurse.”_

_Jeremy sang this with a deadpan expression, slowing down. It was pretty funny._

_“I don’t want to be special,_

_Don’t even need to survive.”_

_He took off his backpack, looking at the ‘Boyf’ written on it and sighed._

_“I just want to know that Christine_

_Is aware I’m alive.”_

“This is actually super sad but somehow comes off as really funny,” commented Chloe, shaking her head.

_The scene changed as the music continued to play. It was the boy’s bathroom, sometime after play rehearsal. Mr. Reyes stood at the urinals, zipping up, and almost bumped into Rich, who had entered as he was leaving. Rich jumped away, disgusted, and Reyes held up his hands placatingly and left. Jeremy stood at the dinky sink, trying to wash the letters off his backpack. Rich spotted him._

_“I told you not to wash that off.”_

“Was that Reyes?” Jenna thought teachers had separate bathrooms than the students. Was he a pervert? Her sources would know. She’d have to ask them.

“It was,” Rich informed her. “He likes the urinals in there better.”

“Why do you know this?”

“I asked him,” Rich said, surprised. “You guys don’t talk with other people at the urinals?”

Jenna’s eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. “Well, I’m a girl, but no, not while I’m peeing.”

A chorus of “Me, neither,” came from various areas around the basement.

The Author didn’t know or even give a shit about male bathroom etiquette but she was relatively sure that people didn’t converse when they were shitting. Just Rich. Of course.

_Jeremy busied himself with his backpack. “Hm, where’s my homework?”_

Michael pinched his forehead. “Who did you think you were fooling, Jer?”

_Rich banged on the wall, and Jeremy jumped. “I’m talking to you, tall-ass!”_

_“Why do you keep calling me that?” Jeremy grumpily put on his backpack, caught. “I’m not even that tall!”_

_“You could be if you weren’t hunched over all scared all the time.” Rich strode to a urinal and did his thing. “The only thing more pathetic is the way you’re sneaking off to a stall to get away from me.”_

_Jeremy had been trying to do just that, froze. Caught in the act, he stumbled out of the stall, head down._

“That’s not a little bit funny for anyone else?” Rich questioned, chuckling slightly.

“I mean, it would have been if Jeremy didn’t have an actual reason for being afraid of you,” Michael answered him. Jeremy and Rich both twitched slightly.

_Rich sneered at him. “Stall are for girls. You a girl, Jeremy?”_

Everyone yelled, “STOP BEING HOMOPHOBIC AND SEXIST AND AN OVERALL TERRIBLE PERSON!”

“I DON’T REMEMBER SAYING THAT!” Rich shouted back. He actually did, but he legitimately felt bad about it. Additionally, he was tired of being yelled at.

_Jeremy looked up, affronted, and then jumped back, having caught an unexpected and clearly unwanted side view of Rich. “Aw, geez.” Rich was standing close to the urinal, but one foot was propped on something. He was gyrating slightly._

“What… what are you even _doing_ , Rich?” Chloe asked him, nauseated.

“I… I have no idea,” Rich said slowly, “I don’t do that in real life. I’m not even that touchy-feely. Look- I’m literally touching Jeremy all the time.”

Everyone was uncomfortable along with onscreen Jeremy.

_“How can you talk to people while you’re... Y’know.” Jeremy, refusing to look at Rich, gestured in his general direction. Rich was rolling his hips, looking like he was having the time of his life._

_“Confidence.”_

The Author sarcastically said, “You go, Rich.” (The real Author accidentally typed ‘ho’ as she wrote this. She guesses it works too.)

Jake squinted. “No, please don’t ‘go.’ Go as in piss. Please go as in leave the bathroom.”

Rich’s sexual hip-rolling moves were burning everyone’s eyes out. They were very vocal about it. Rich did have a point though- most things did have to do with confidence.

_“You might wanna… watch the floor…” Jeremy cautioned._

“Ew. Ew. Ew.” Christine covered her face.

“Is this why boy’s bathroom almost smells like shit?” asked Jenna.

_Suddenly, Rich froze, twitching. As if he’s receiving a message from beyond. Techno beeps started playing. Rich head jerked back and forth, muttering to himself under his breath. It was creepy._

Brooke: “What the fuck?”

Jake: “You good, Rich?”

Michael: “Well, he’s alive now, so obviously.”

Christine: “What’s happening?”

Jeremy: nothing. He was being quiet, but it was pretty normal for him, as far as the Author could deduce from spending such a short time with them. He usually made quiet asides to Michael, and they were apparently funny, judging from Michael’s laughter and shaking shoulders that followed them. The Author wished Jeremy was a bit louder.

_Jeremy inched back. “I just remembered I don’t have to pee after all—”_

_Rich gasped, breaking the spell. He looked at Jeremy. Jeremy looked at the audience. The audience presumably looked back, just as confused as he was. “Don’t move.”_

_Jeremy froze. Rich zips his fly, wiping his hand on his pants. He turned to face Jeremy, menacing._

_“You don’t remember me freshman year, do you?”_

“You went here freshman year?” Chloe and Brooke asked him at the same time. Rich pressed his lips in a firm line.

_“You d-didn’t go here freshman year—” Jeremy stuttered._

_“AH!” Rich yelled, and Jeremy twitched. “I DID! You just didn’t notithe.” His voice broke while trying to say ‘notice.’ “Nobody did!”_

_As the music started, Rich slapped his face._

“Huh?” everyone chorused.

“I lisped,” Rich said quietly.

Jeremy said nothing, but he shifted so his shirt completely covered his back. Michael hugged him, knowing about the electrocution scars that ran down in lightning shaped scars down Jeremy’s back.

Jeremy had shared the Squip’s ‘carrot and the stick’ methods with him. Michael knew how much Jeremy trusted him if he chose to share that information with him. Michael had seen them, once.

They had been at the pool together, and both of them were wearing those dumb rash guard shirts- Michael because of his body issues and Jeremy because of his skinny pale twink body. Or so Michael had thought.

When Jeremy had done an impressive one and a half off of the diving board, his shirt had somehow gone over his head. As he had surfaced, gasping, Michael had glimpsed Jeremy’s back and was horrified.

The scars streaked down Jeremy’s back, stark white and jagged. They were most clustered near his spine. Michael didn’t know Squips could physically harm their users; otherwise, he wouldn’t have let Jeremy within the same sixty feet of the pill. He only knew this because Jeremy told him the story, shaking, when Michael asked afterward.

Actually, Michael would die happy if he could roll Jeremy in a piece of bubble wrap until it was five feet thick. Jeremy could be safe then, putting aside the fact that he would suffocate. Maybe Michael could put a scuba tank in there with him. He shoved the idea in his mental box of ‘Things to Think about Later.’

The Author had no idea about any of this, of course. She wasn’t omniscient, although that be a pretty cool power to have.

_“Freshman year,” Rich sang,_

_“I didn't have a girlfriend or a clue._

_I was a loser, just like you!” He pointed at Jeremy._

_“Good times would only_

_Soar by.” He gestured outward, then pulled in Jeremy conspiratorially._

_“I was gross,_

_As every female would attest,_

_My sexting was a futile quest,”_

“Who actually sexts people?” asked Christine. “Seriously, I want to know.”

“I’ve done it before.” Chloe ran her hand through her hair.

“So have I,” Jake said, looking down.

“I hate to ask… But was it to… each other?” The Author cringed as she said this, but, hey, she had to know.

“Maybe,” said Chloe at the same time Jake shook his head frantically.

_“My little penis was depressed.” Rich gestured at his crotch, and Jeremy jumped but steadfastly kept his gaze upward._

_“He was so lonely,_

_Poor guy.”_

_The music kicked up and Rich danced towards the center of the stage._

“Why. Why? _Why?_ Oh, and why?” Michael wanted to know, except for the fact that he _really_ didn’t. “How did you deal with this, Jeremy?”

“You don’t see me subtly backing away?”

Michael squinted a the screen. “No, actually, I don’t. You look really into it.”

“Huh. That’s different. I actually wanted to get out of there ASAP.”

_“I was_

_Hopeless, hopeless._

_I was_

_Helpless, helpless!_

_Every time I'd walk the hallway,_

_I would trip._

_I was_

_Stagnant and idle,_

_I was_

_So suicidal!” Jeremy didn’t react, and Rich sank down dramatically to the floor._

“Suicidal?” Jake echoed, looking concerned for his friend.

“It was a really hard time for me,” said Rich, trying not to cry, “and I’m not sure why I sang that line so happily.”

Jake hugged him. The Author felt that it was her duty to interrupt the moment and hug them both, and Christine and Jenna joined in until they were all in a pile on top of Rich.

The two future couples on the beanbags mimed hugging Rich as well, because none of the four wanted to move from their comfortable spots with their respective crushes.

_“And then,” Rich started rising upwards. Jeremy, intrigued, shuffled over to him._

_Then, then,_

_Then, then,_

_Then, then,”_

“Are you ever gonna finish?” Michael asked him, trying to lighten the mood. Rich chuckled wetly in response.

_“Then, then,_

_Then, then,_

_Then, then... I got a Squip!”_

_Jeremy twitched. “You got quick?”_

_“Not quick. ‘Squip.’” Rich managed not to sound like he was talking down to Jeremy, but it was difficult._

_“I've just never heard of it before.”_

_“Well, that's the point!” Rich said. “This is some top-secret,” he patted Jeremy’s face, “can't-even-look-it-up-on-the-internet” he played the ‘Itsy-Bitsy-Spider’ on Jeremy’s chest, the pointed toward the man himself, “shit.”_

Chloe opened her mouth to say something, but the Author interrupted her.

“Hey, I love you guys, but please shut up until the chorus finishes.”

They grudgingly obliged.

_The chorus started up. Rich stood stock-still in the center of the stage, gesticulating a sequence of some sort. Jeremy stared at him, enraptured. Weird techno music that was the equivalent of ‘oooo’ played in the background._

_“It's from Japan._

_It's a gray, oblong pill,_

_Quantum nano-technology CPU._

_The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until_

_It implants in your brain and it tells you what to do.”_

“Okay. It’s done. Now you can talk or do whatever teenagers do that makes noise. Sometimes it’s so dumb that it can’t possibly be talking, but here we are.”

“Amazing!” Michael said, ignoring her commentary. “Now we can make fine of those hand gestures! What were those, Squip gang signs or something?” He threw back his head, laughing.

“Okay, listen. It’s a fucking musical. Everything is ridiculous,” Rich declared, raising his pointer finger in the air.

_“What?” Jeremy was incredulous. “That’s not even possible.” Rich shoved Jeremy up against the bathroom wall and raised his fist threateningly. Jeremy flinched._

_“Shut up, tall-ass!” Suddenly, Rich realized what he was doing and let him go. “Sorry, old habits. Look, I apologize for treating you like human garbage all the time.”_

“But you’re not. Human garbage, I mean.”

Unimpressed, Jeremy blandly said, “Thanks, Rich. It means a lot to know you care.”

_Onscreen Jeremy was more forgiving. He shrugged in a ‘what can you do?’ gesture._

_“I only did it ‘cause my Squip said I had to.” Rich pointed at his head. “But- now it’s saying you’re not a bad guy. That you might want a Squip of your own.” He clicked his tongue and did another few hip moves as he walked away. “‘Course, if you’re not interested…”_

  _Jeremy flailed after him, waving his arms. “No no no, wait!” Rich turned around. “So… It's like…” Jeremy looked around, leaned in, and said, “Drugs?”_

“Jeremy,” said Michael, “we were _literally_ getting high an hour ago. Don’t act like you’ve never done drugs before.”

_Rich smirked. “It's better than drugs, Jeremy.”_

“Here it comes!” the Author yelled, jumping up off the coach then dramatically falling on her knees, lip-syncing enthusiastically. Popcorn sprayed everywhere from the crevices on the couch.

_“It's from Japan!” Rich sang/screamed, copying the Author’s current position as the music started up again, and behind him the ensemble went, “Ah! Ah! Ah! Ah!”_

“It that really considered singing?”

Offended, Rich defended himself. “What? That was so cool!”

_“It's a gray, oblong pill,_

_Quantum nano-technology CPU._

_The quantum computer in the pill will travel through your blood until_

_It implants in your brain and it tells you what to do._

_It tells you what to do!”_

“And sometimes takes over your body, but we’re not going to talk about that!” the Author cheerily said.

_Drums crashed, and the background singing got louder, as did Rich. In the back of the stage, the cast members’ silhouettes did the hand gestures. This was why buildups were invented. The effect was electrifying._

“This is so cool,” Jenna breathed, “hey, I see myself in the background!”

_“It's preprogrammed,_

_It's amazing;_

_Speaks to you directly.”_

“Hey, Rich?” Jeremy piped up.

“Yep?”

“You knew how the Squip really was… How bad… Why did you recommend it t-to me?”

Rich sniffled and wiped his nose on his sleeve, in a better mood now. “When I said that my Squip thought that you weren’t such a bad guy, did you really think she thought highly of you? You were a literal loser.

I think that maybe she wanted to reproduce-” Jeremy gave him a horrified look, “-sorry, maybe multiply is a better word. I mean, why did your Squip- Keanu, right?- try to spread itself to the rest of the school?”

Jeremy tapped his chin, thinking. “I originally didn’t know. I’m starting to think my Squip was faulty. I mean, other people have Squips, and they didn’t try to take over the world. Maybe all Squips are equipped with a higher motive- to spread the technology as much as possible.

The Squip really thought he was improving my life. Syncing all the Squips was supposed to help me achieve my goal to be with Christine. The Squip even said that it was the only way for me to get what I want or something like that.”

“As much as I sympathize with you, Jeremy, I am not an object to be had,” Christine retorted.

“Of course, Chris,” Jeremy hastened to reassure her, “I just meant that I wanted to create a persona that you would like today. Of course, I now realize that that was a shitty idea. This isn’t _Grease_. Changing who I am won’t give me a happy ending.

“I know that this is a totally inappropriate time to say this, but you already created a different persona,” Michael grinned a Cheshire Cat smile.

“What?” Jeremy thought for a second then his eyes widened in realization and he went to frantically cover Michael’s mouth. “No, Micha--”

“Sorry, did I say persona? I meant--”

“Stop, shut the fuck up--”

“--fursona!” Michael shouted around Jeremy’s hand.

“It’s not true! You have no evidence!”

“Three words: sexy anime female.” He did a creepy high pitched laugh, something that sounded like ‘Ohoohoohoo!’

“I can’t believe I even told you that! And there is no correlation whatsoever between the two! ”

Michael looked at him pityingly. “You sure?”

“If you’re a furry, why didn’t you like my sexy dog costume?” Brooke asked Jeremy, hurt. He sputtered, trying and failing to create a coherent response.

The Author unpaused the video, as Jenna mentally added ‘fursona’ to her blackmail list (she had had her suspicions about, Michael only confirmed them). “Yeah, we’re gonna move on.”

_“You behave as_

_It's appraising_

_Helps you act correctly.”_

_Helps you to be cool,_

_It helps you rule!” Rich raised his arm to the sky._

_“Picture this,” Rich said to Jeremy, spreading his hands in front of him as if they were both looking through a window. Jeremy, who was really into Rich’s proposition (but apparently not into enough musicals to wave through the window) looked through it as if expecting to see something there._

_“Nobody cares if you are late_

_'Cause even teachers think you're great._

_Your weekend's just a full-on slate of blowout benders,_

_Of teenage rockstar splendors!” Rich danced along, Jeremy nodding with him._

“Oh,” said the Author sarcastically, “the Ultimate Teenage Dream.”

“I mean,” Jake said, completely missing her sarcasm, “it is what it is.”

“Honestly, it still doesn’t sound that bad,” Jeremy told her. Michael agreed.

_“Right now you're_

_Helpless, helpless.” Jeremy smiled awkwardly._

_“You are_

_Almost hopeless.” Rich continued, and Jeremy’s face fell._

_“On the school's social map you're just a blip!” He spun Jeremy around enthusiastically._

“I mean, was he wrong?” Chloe said, not unkindly.

“That wasn’t kind,” Brooke told her.

“Yes, it was, didn’t you read the signal phrase?”

_“But if you take my advice_

_And if you pay the listed price,_

_Well, then you go from sad to interesting_

_To hip- yeah, your whole life will flip!” When Rich said this, he unfurled a chart. On it were three emoji faces: sad, cheeky, and sunglasses. He pointed to each one in turn, then pulled the string at the bottom and the chart rolled up._

“ _That_ wasn’t in the original musical,” the Author said, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline.

_“When you buy a Squip!” Rich and the ensemble sang, Rich closing his fist on air._

_“I got a hook-up,” he said, “this guy works at Payless Shoes at the Menlo Park Mall.” He emphasized the directions. “It’s six hundred.”_

_Horrified, Jeremy exclaimed, “Wait, wha-- Dollars?”_

Michael sighed and ran a hand through his hair, which flopped right back into his eyes despite his efforts. “What did you _think_ you were paying in, Jeremy?”

“Pencils?” Brooke supplied helpfully. “Stuffed animals? Pornography?”

Jake tilted his head. “Six hundred pornography?”

“That… sounded better in my head.”

_Rich put his hands on Jeremy’s shoulders. “It’s worth it. Bring the money on Monday. You’ll see.” He started to leave the bathroom. Flailing, Jeremy ran after him._

_“W-w-wait!” The music stopped. Disgusted, Jeremy asked him, “Aren’t you gonna wash your hands?”_

_“Aw, man, Jeremy.” Rich gave him a pitying look. “You know what you need?”_

“Let me guess: a Squip?”

_“Hey, yeah, a Squip!_

_Oh, a Squip_

_Hey, yeah!” Rich was dancing again. He did that a lot._

_“No longer a drip when you got in your grip,_

_A Squip..._

_A Squip..._

_A Squip!” What he lacked in talent he made up with enthusiasm._

_Good thing he had a lot of both. The dancing looked really difficult._

_“Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, ah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”_

_The music stopped, Rich flushed the urinal, pointed at Jeremy, and exited._

_The lights went dark. The scene changed from the bathroom to Jeremy’s bedroom, later that night. The lights came on again, revealing Jeremy, who looked suitably traumatized after what just happened, but mainly just Rich’s dancing._

“Your facial expression is literal gold!” guffawed Jake.

Brooke cringed. “How is Rich’s dancing so sexual?”

“So I wasn’t the only one who thought that!” exclaimed Michael. Jeremy did so internally, but he had a heterosexual reputation to keep up. Actually, sexuality TBD at a later date. Jeremy hoped that it wouldn’t come up in the musical since it looked like no one including himself was being spared.

_“It's from Japan,” Jeremy sang to the audience, doing the gestures._

“Oh! Ooo! He’s doing the thing!” Christine yelped. “It’s like a reprise!”

“With the hand gestures, too?” Jenna noted, “He caught on quickly.”

_“It's a gray, oblong pill,_

_Quantum nanotechnology CPU._

_The quantum computer in the pill_

_Will travel through my blood until_

_It implants in my brain and it tells me what to do.”_

_Jeremy looked so excited. “It helps me to be cool,_

_It helps me rule!” If only he knew what came next._

“Oh, no, Jeremy. Oh, no no no no no, honey,” said Christine, reaching over and patting Jeremy’s hair.

_At the end of Jeremy’s “--rule!” there was an epic guitar strum and two bean bags yeeted out of the sky. Techno music started playing the entrance to “Two Player Game”._

“In the BMC Revival,” the Author announced, pausing the video, “beanbags don’t yeet out of the sky, but Michael apparently does.”

“Is… that a reference?” Michael asked her. “Why am I yeeting places? More importantly, how does one yeet places?”

“What does yeet even mean, anyway?” Christine nagged them.

A chime sounded. _Achievement Unlocked: yeeeEeEeEEET!_

The Author shook a fist to the sky. “Why? _Why?_ I escape to one world (or pocket universe, whatever) and cringey vines follow me to the next? Why can’t I catch a break?”

“Vines?” Chloe narrowed her eyes. “That was _so_ long ago. 2018, I think?” She looked to Brooke for confirmation, who nodded.

“Two bros,” Michael sang, looking at Jeremy, “chillin’ in a hot tub--”

“Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not gay!” Jeremy harmonized with Michael, heterosexual reputation be damned.

“Ooh, you’re gonna love the next song.” The Author smiled a beatific smile. “The next song is _definitely_ not gay.”

“Definitely _not_?” Michael looked disappointed, Jeremy relieved.

“Definitely,” she promised.

“Not?”

“Not not.”

“I’m confused.”

Brooke stretched languidly. Implied homosexuality in songs, or the lack of it, didn’t bother her. “Can we move on?”

“Fine,” the Author said, stretching out the vowel just to be annoying. She clicked play on the remote, which no one had questioned where it had come from, why it was there, or if it served a higher purpose. Oh, well, there was always a time for everything. Which reminded her.

After watching "Two Player Game" about eighty times, she had come to one conclusion: Michael was definitely gay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People who comment their favorite scenes are my favorite people. People who comment are my favorite people. People who leave kudos are my favorite people. People in general. (Can you tell I'm exhausted?)
> 
> Comments make my day, and kudos make the world go round.


	6. Is This Original Art?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I drew this on August 24. Along with writing, I enjoy drawing a lot. Please don't repost (or trace or copy, whatever art stealers do) or whatever without giving me credit.  
> This is Jeremy and Michael from the first chapter when they first see the Author, except they are on their respective beanbags instead of the couch.

My boyf riends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a little blurry, but did anyone notice Michael's bunny slippers?


End file.
